


Proof of Concept

by bandedbulbussnarfblat



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-19
Updated: 2019-12-29
Packaged: 2021-02-18 03:03:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21854005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bandedbulbussnarfblat/pseuds/bandedbulbussnarfblat
Summary: What would have happened if Eliot said yes when Quentin asked to give them a shot? A retelling of the back half of season 3 with Eliot and Quentin as a couple.
Relationships: Quentin Coldwater/Eliot Waugh
Comments: 10
Kudos: 66





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This idea wouldn't leave me alone, so I had to write it. Even though I have like three other fics to be working on. This chapter is just the prologue, from here it's going to be me retelling the episodes.

“Fifty years, I mean, who gets that kind of proof of concept?”

Eliot is afraid, and when he is afraid he runs. He wants to run now. There's no way Quentin will want him here, here where he has a choice. Here where he has Alice, or even Julia, or any other girl that catches his eye. Or hell, even any other man. As far as Eliot knows he's the only one Quentin has ever been with. Why would he settle for him when there is a world of better out there?

Time freezes. Everything except Eliot is frozen.

“This moment will be your deepest regret.”

The voice sounds familiar, too familiar. Eliot turns and is confronted with himself, standing in front of a door that wasn't there earlier. Magic exists, so there's an explanation. There are a number of things it could be. But Eliot isn't sure he cares, coming face to face with himself in this fashion isn't something he wants to deal with. He'll keep his self-loathing all right here on the inside. “How-”

“Clock barrens. Focus, because I don't have long,” the other Eliot says. “You have a chance here, a chance I didn't take and I regret it more than anything. I came here to tell you to take it. It's scary, because it's real and you're afraid you'll ruin it. Be brave. Let Quentin love you.”

There's a noise from the other side of the door, a feminine voice calling out. “I have to go. Remember, be brave. Say yes.”

The other Eliot steps through the door and is gone. Time unfreezes. Quentin is looking at him, earnest and eager and Eliot can see it, the love in his eyes. Be brave, his other self had told him. His other self who regretted this moment enough to find a way to time travel and fix it. Eliot wasn't always best at trusting himself, but he thinks he can trust him now.

He leans forward and kisses Quentin softly on the mouth. It feels both revolutionary and as natural as breathing. Quentin gasps against his mouth, surprised and delighted. He makes a soft noise, then is kissing Eliot back, kissing him like he wants to devour him. His hands are buried in Eliot's shirt, gripping it tight like Eliot might pull away if he lets go. Maybe Quentin is scared too.

Finally, the need to breathe has Eliot pulling back, and resting his forehead gently against Quentin's. “So that's a yes?” Quentin says.

This is terrifying and exhilarating and everything Eliot never knew he wanted. “Yes, that's a yes.”


	2. Do You Like Teeth Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quentin and Eliot have a clandestine meeting, Margo gets trapped with Fomar, Alice and Julia visit an incubus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 3x06 is an episode that was light on Quentin and Eliot. It was more about Margo, Julia and Alice. Which means I had to spend a lot of time just writing their scenes as they were, since Alice and Julia don't know about Quentin and Eliot yet. I've decided to break each episode into two or three chapters to make it easier to read. Bigger changes to the plot are coming, as well as more Queliot scenes, but I don't want to ignore the other characters, especially since they're going to be affected too.

The sun filters in through the window, highlighting Quentin's face. His head is nestled on Eliot's chest, his hair in disarray. Eliot remembers wrapping his hands in it last night and tugging, pulling, remembers how Quentin had moaned.

It was a very nice night.

But it is morning now, and duty calls. It was risky just to be with Quentin, with the fairy queen watching his every move. They'd been careful and found one of the more secluded guest rooms to spend the night together. Eliot carefully dislodges himself and moves to find his clothes. He's nearly dressed by the time Quentin stirs and smiles at him, sleepy and content.

“Come back to bed.”

If only he could. Eliot crosses back over to the bed and leans down, brushes his mouth against Quentin's. “Good morning.”

“Mm,” Quentin pulls him closer, until he is kneeling in the vee of his legs, hands on either side of Quentin's shoulders holding his weight. Quentin is kissing him, kissing him, kissing him, in the most distracting of ways.

He pulls back just enough to speak. “I have to go.”

“Stay,” says Quentin, all sleep soft and warm and puppy eyes. And Eliot is only human, how is he supposed to resist that? With kingly resolve, he makes himself.

“I would if I could, but duty calls.” Eliot presses one last, brief kiss to Quentin's mouth. “Remember we're meeting up later. Wear the guard outfit.”

///

Crumpled paper litters the floor as Alice scribbles tirelessly. Julia sets down a box of junk in front of her. “Whoo. Sorry.” Julia begins pulling the stuff out.

“Last I checked, we were looking for a spell, not starting an eBay store.”

“There's this old hedge story I once heard about some sort of electrical transfer Marina used to steal magic from some poor faun. People still talk about it.”

Julia reaches in the box and pulls out a stack of papers. She hands it to Alice. “Just look.”

“So, you want us to reverse engineer a hedge witch urban legend using kids' toys?”

“I mean, aluminum wiring's been scant since the nineties so unless you have a better idea.”

It takes awhile, but they build a device. There's a Furby in the bottom that makes Alice truly glad she never had one as a kid to stare at her with its creepy little eyes. Julia begins the spell. “Do you feel anything?”

“No. Go again?”

The plastic fish starts thrashing and singing. “Why did that just turn on by itself?”

“Oh my God.” Alice digs in her bag and pulls out the key. “Give me your hand.”

Alice puts the key in Julia's hand so they're both touching it. Penny appears, looking distressed. “Wait, stop, do not do this.”

“Did you just use that fish as a doorbell?” Julia asks.

“I've been trying to warn you guys for like an hour, being the fish button is the first thing in this entire room that worked.”

“What are you trying to warn us about?” says Alice.

“This spell. I've seen it in person.”

“Are you serious?” Julia says.

“Yeah.” Penny sits down. Alice does wonder sometimes how he can seem to sit on furniture, given he has no physical body and can't really touch things. But it's a question for another day. “Couple months back on a book stealing job, I saw a group of magically starved idiots do the transfer and by the end of it, everyone was on fire.”

Alice and Julia exchange a look.

“Trust me, Fogg was right, it's a bad idea.”

Julia looks at Penny. “Wait a minute, did you just say Fogg was right?

///

“Fuck me. You have magic. And you're just now telling me.”

Julia and Alice sit in Fogg's office. Julia winces slightly. “Don't take this the wrong way, but you've been a little drunk and unreliable.”

“Yes, I'm drunk, but I am entirely...reliable.”

Fogg moves and knocks several objects off the desk unto the floor.

“Maybe we should get back to Marina's spell,” Alice suggests.

“It wasn't Marina's spell. It's mine,” Fogg says. “She stole it from my private collection.”

Fogg takes a breath and points an accusing finger. “And if any of you had attended my annual colloquia on prohibited magic, you would know that it's proper name is the Voltaic Transfer. It is incredibly delicate.”

“We know that, but-” Julia begins.

“But what? But you want to rid yourself of the one thing we all so desperately want?”

“If you understood what-”

“You understand. I'm a Magician with no magic. A dean without a school,” Fogg says. “Just a blind, unemployed, black man in America. Which, shockingly, was being kept thirty-eight percent more tolerant through a series of enchantments which have now died. In case you hadn't noticed or perhaps maybe you weren't in a position to need to.”

Alice shifts uncomfortably. “Okay, you're really drunk.”

“So what?” Fogg says loudly.

Alice and Julia both flinch a little. Alice leans back and crosses her arms over her chest.

Quietly, Fogg continues “What does it matter? Alice, of all people, you should know better than to attempt this. You want to blow yourselves up, is that it?” He lifts his cup with a scoff.

Julia stands up. “Um, just give me one second.” She finds Fogg's glasses and lays them on his desk and exhales slowly. She works through a series of tuts and the glasses shimmer faintly. She hands them to Fogg. He puts them on and extends his hands in front of him with a shaky breath, able to see their outline once more.

“Uh, they'll hold for a day or two, but then Alice can recharge them. After we finish the transfer.”

Julia looks at Fogg. “I know. Everything is fucked. I'm sorry.”

“It's not your fault, Julia.”

“Yeah well, it's not _not_ my fault, either so.”

“What you two utter idiots need, if you don't want to die, is the flesh of a magical creature to act as a sort of semiconductor. A potent energy-drainer. An incubus.”

///

Margo had always heard in-laws were complicated, but this bitch takes it up to a whole new level.

As if trying to avoid the fairy queen wasn't enough, now she has a husband and mother-in-law to avoid. While Eliot is off consummating his love, she's trying to avoid consummating her marriage. She'd seen Eliot briefly last night, who had said “Q and I are a thing. Long story. Don't tell anyone.” She had said “about time” and went on with her day. She'd even kept an extra vigilant watch to make sure no fairies were sniffing around to find out about them.

“If this is about the whole marriage not being consummated, don't worry, it'll happen.” It's a blatant lie, but Margo doesn't feel guilty. She may be a lot of things, but she's not a statutory rapist. Though would it even be rape, if she's forced into it? Not that it matters, because ew. No thank you.

“Oh, no, no, no. You misunderstand me, my dear,” the monster-in-law says. “You see, I've heard a rumor about your advisor, the Pickwick? Sighted in a certain corridor. Taking scrapings from the wall.”

As if she'd fall for bait so easily. “He's just a compulsive redecorator.”

“You might be interested to know that we've both been plotting against our mutual friend.”

“No idea what you're talking about,” Margo says. She trusts this bitch as far as she can throw her.

“Margo, you can trust me. The misguided actions of my son have soured both sides of our arrangement.” She leans forward to whisper into Margo's ear. “I've acquired a weapon forged in the foundries of Stonehaven.”

Margo doesn't speak, but listens to her carefully. “When the time is right, we could use it to kill the Fairy Queen.”

Margo lets herself be lead to a door. It opens and her brat of a husband is inside. “Hi.”

“Oh, hell no” She turns but her mother-in-law is blocking the way. “Move.”

“Hang your sheets out the window afterwards, dear.”

“Guards! Guards!” The men at the door begin to close it. “Don't even think about closing it. Guards!”

They close the door.

“Let me out!”

///

Alice and Julia were in the office of an angry man, who looked nothing like what one would picture an incubus to look like. Alice leans in to speak quietly to Julia, “So the incubus is a hedge fund manager?”

Not something like a stripper, or a gigolo, or a porn star. Alice always thought that an incubus would work in something sex related. Door to door dildo salesmen or something. Erotic art. Those ads that promised horny Russians in your neighborhood.

“Mm-hm,” says Julia, while the incubus calls someone on the phone a piece of monkey shit. “Just remember what Fogg said. Be respectful, no matter what.”

The incubus turns to them and puts his hands on his hips. “You got two minutes.”

“Henry Fogg said you might be able to help us power our spell,” Julia says. “We just uh—we need to use your thing.”

“My what?” he says shortly, and wow, this guy seems angry for an incubus. It's really destroying all of Alice's notions.

“Uh, your—your thing.” Alice tries. “Your business.”

“Sorry?”

“Uh. Your little friend,” Alice says, then corrects “Uh, I mean, your big friend. Well, I'm sure your friend is perfectly proportioned to your body. I was just saying...”

Julia face palms. “Your penis.”

The incubus looks at her incredulously. “Yep, we need to use your penis to power our spell.”

And aren't those words every man wants to hear?

“And we know you need it too.” Alice adds. “So that's why we'll build the spell around it. It'll be completely painless and should only take a couple of minutes.”

The incubus starts laughing, so hard that he bends over double. “I can't believe that actually worked.”

“What actually worked?” says Alice.

“I planted this joke on Fogg twenty-five years ago,” he says. “I had him totally convinced that I had a magic Johnson.”

“Wait so you don't have a magic-” Julia lets the word penis go unsaid.

“Of course not. That's ridiculous.”

“No, it's not,” says Julia, “I mean, you're an incubus. Isn't sex, like, your thing?”

“Gods, no. I don't even like sex. Stress is a much better way to drain people's energy.”

He sniffs around them, inhaling deeply over Julia. “Oh ho and you. You got a lot of it, I can tell.” He breathes in again. “Delish.”

“You give me a few more hits of this, and I'll give you something that'll actually power your spell.” He reaches back under his shirt and pulls off...something.

“Is that your tail?” asks Alice.

“Yeah, I grow a new one every spring.”

///

Eliot bows deeply to the Fairy Queen. She's sitting with a fairy attendant on either side of her. “Welcome back. I see you've misplaced your wife and child.”

“You'd be shocked, how easy it is to misplace people when your mind's on tax collection and annexation and unforeseen seafaring...confusion.”

The Fairy Queen looks unamused. “Yet sources tell me you've been seen fraternizing with a palace guard.”

“I'll immediately sale back out there and find them, of course” Eliot offers. It could be a good excuse to go on the quest with Quentin, though it would mean having to bring Fen and Frey back. He doesn't want to do that, the further his wife and daughter are from the Fairy Queen's clutches the better. Not that he's entirely sold on Frey being his daughter, but Fen is, and she needs to believe it so he can go along.

He begins to back up when the Fairy Queen speaks. “No you won't. I have a bigger problem I need you to solve.”

“The Stone Queen has locked Margo and Fomar in the dungeon.”

“Wait, what? Why?”

“She thinks it will get the marriage consummated, but ultimately I need the union officialized just as much as the Floaters do.”

“Listen, pro tip. Let Margo out of there immediately. You know her. Force isn't going to work.” There's also a good chance she may murder Fomar while trapped with him, and then wouldn't they be fucked? There are no other sons for her to marry and the Stone Queen would probably want a war.

“True. Force may not work. But the clever coercion on the part of a trusted friend.”

Ugh. Fillorians really need to work on their idea of consent. “I am not going to coerce Margo into having sex with a fifteen year old. Have you never heard of statutory rape?”

She probably hasn't. When he has free time, he needs to look into the laws surrounding rape. They could probably use a modern day polish. He and Margo can get around to it when they're not trying to save magic, or some other quest to save the world.

“Fomar isn't a statue.”

“That is not what—forget it.” Explaining the idea of consent to someone who steals people's children is probably a futile endeavor.

“You will solve this problem for me.”

“And if I refuse?” Eliot challenges. He's not making Margo bang a teenager. Especially a murderous one.

The Fairy Queen snatches her hands from her attendants and glares at him. “I've been searching for a new keepsake.” She eyes his body up and down. “Several bits will do. If not from you perhaps your friend in the guard.”

“Fine, but I have the feeling Queen Margo is going to be a little bit difficult.”

///

Margo bangs on the window with no luck.

“I know, you hate me for killing Micah.”

Margo groans. “Jesus Christ.” She circles around the bed and Fomar turns on it to follow her with his eyes.

“It's just that in our culture, younger sons can't marry or inherit property. Most of us end up serving in the Crag Guard or dying in battle”

Margo stands at the foot of the bed and looks at him without a trace of pity. “Is this supposed to make me feel bad for you?”

“No. So do you want to take a break? Let me touch your maiden peaks?”

“Do you want me to cut your hands off and have them made into a decorative, whimsical platter?” Margo threatens.

“How are we supposed to become one flesh if you won't let me touch you?”

Margo leans forward slightly, better to glare at the twerp. “We're not.”

“But you're my wife.”

“Oh please. You don't need a wife. You need a pile of socks and a sex ed class.”

Fomar looks confused. “What's a sex class? Who's Ed?”

“It's something they make you do on Earth. It makes you never wanna. How about I show you?”

It isn't hard to get a book delivered to the room. “Vaginas, the leading cause of death in men. They spread disease. They explode during childbirth.” Margo flips to another page. “Worst of all they bleed. Every month. In fact, mine's doing it right now.”

Fomar shrugs and smiles. “That's okay. I like blood.”

He would, the little pervert.

“But do you like teeth?”

///

Quentin fans himself and waits for Eliot. He's wearing a palace guard uniform and it's uncomfortably hot. Still, he understands the need for discretion. The fairy queen has eyes everywhere.

“Sorry I'm late. You okay?” Eliot comes around the corner, looking distracted. “Enjoying being a palace guard in your own palace?”

“This uniform is like, really sweaty,” Quentin complains.

“Yeah, I know, but it beats having the fairy queen's hand up your ass. The last thing we need is another puppet king,” Eliot says, adjusting his uniform. “Okay, key quest. Hit me. But first...” He glances around quickly, checking they are alone. Then he backs Quentin into the wall and kisses him.

It's meant to be just a hello kiss, but Quentin throws himself into it, shoulders hunched and hands grabbing at him. Eliot knocks the stupid hat off his head and buries a hand in his hair, tilting his head to a better angle. He licks inside Quentin's mouth, swallows the moan Quentin makes. He pulls back before he can get too distracted and Quentin tries to follow him. “Key quest, Q.”

“Right, the quest.”

They find an alcove to sit in where Quentin can spread out his map. “Okay so I'm pretty sure that the fourth key is somewhere in this stretch of ocean called the Abyss.” And isn't that a name that just brings forth confidence? It sounds like the sort of place to avoid at all costs, not go sailing into.

“Um, it's an uncharted region of Fillory where it's like, sort of permanently night, Quentin explains. “Um, but, you know, we get to go on a quest on a magical boat, so it doesn't totally suck.”

That might be a problem. Eliot isn't sure how to say this without Quentin taking it as a rejection. “Uh, yeah. I wish I could.”

Quentin gives him that sad puppy look and Eliot feels a slice of guilt. “Believe me, but duty calls a dozen different ways. And I can't leave Margo.”

Quentin starts to roll up the map. “Right, of course.” He has that look on his face like he's shutting down and Eliot doesn't know how to stop it.

“Sorry, baby.”

“No,” Quentin says, folding up the map. He glances over at Eliot. “I was looking forward to going on a boating quest with you.”

“I wish I could go, Q.”

Quentin stands up. Eliot follows. “Uh, think about it. You can take Benedict. And when you get back I'll show you exactly how much I missed you.” Eliot traces his thumb over Quentin's lower lip, then dips down to kiss him briefly. “You do know I'm going to miss you?”

“Yeah, of course.” Quentin doesn't look entirely convinced.

Eliot pulls Quentin against him. “But you'll be able to do the thing on the prow of a ship you've been waiting your whole life to do.”

Quentin puts an arm around him, his face scrunched in confusion. “What thing?”

As if Quentin, hopeless romantic he is has never seen Titanic. “You know, the thing.”

Quentin looks up at him with his soft eyes, Eliot pulls him closer and kisses his forehead. “I really am going to miss you.”

“I'll miss you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I always love hearing what you think.

**Author's Note:**

> Did you like it? Am I crazy for starting yet another fic? Let me know what you think.


End file.
